


Which

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Luther’s given the Jerry test.
Relationships: Jerry(s)/Luther (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Which

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

When any Jerry buys an outfit, they buy ten of it, because twelve of them made it across the border, and chances are, at least half of them will want to wear the same thing on any given day. There are _special_ things—clothes that are too fancy to afford buying multiples, which is fine, because they never fight over things. There are no exclusives. Everyone shares everything— _almost_ everything—like the four jobs they hold down between them—they alternate who goes where on what day and who stays behind to do household chores. Only three ever leave the house at once, because triplets are a human thing but quadruplets are rare. Not one of the Jerrys is programmed with any advanced medical knowledge, but they’ve run the math and most are fairly certain no human mother could possibly give birth to twelve identical children at once and have them all grow up perfectly healthy. One Jerry thinks it’s possible. One Jerry prefers to only leave the house when none of the others have, because he accidentally told a girl at the mall once that he didn’t have any siblings. In his defense, they’re not siblings. They’re _Jerry_.

Jerry wants to change into the sleek black suit they bought for special occasions, but that would ruin the game they’ve already agreed on. Instead, he wears a nice turtleneck—a thick, navy blue piece that fits him well, and fits three other Jerrys the exact same way. A fourth Jerry wears a scooped turtleneck, a fifth a crisply ironed jacket. Two are wearing the same beige suit. They all look nice. They’ve all styled their hair perfectly, albeit in mostly different ways. Jerry wants to look _perfect_ but can’t deny that all the other Jerrys do too. He’s so incredibly _excited_.

The doorbell rings, and Jerry tenses, sensors whirring to life like the used to do every morning at the theme park. Everything hones in on that one directive, but instead of _serve the guests_ , it’s something akin to _enjoy life_ , and that thunderstorm of branching possibilities only bolsters his enthusiasm. He wants to answer the door.

But he wanders into the living room and sits down on the couch next to Jerry instead. Three Jerrys are sprawled out across the floor, putting together the custom-made puzzle Alice hand-painted for them. Jerry’s making dinner in the kitchen, and Jerry wanders curiously down the stairs to peer over the railing. Jerry emerges from a freshly-polished washroom to answer the door. 

From the couch, Jerry can make out a sliver of the entrance hall. He sees the light flood in as the door’s drawn open, and then Luther’s deep voice rumbles, “Hello.”

“Hello,” the Jerry there chirps, just as pleased as Jerry is. They all know about his feelings. They’re all _happy for him._ He can feel their bristling well-wishes through the bond they share, and it makes his thirium pump flutter faster with affection. He impatiently waits and listens, wondering if Luther’s going to scoop other-Jerry up in his arms and head off to the movies.

Instead, Luther’s heavy footfalls echo through the house. He meanders around Jerry and down towards the kitchen. Jerry would hold his breath if he were still simulating it. 

A moment later, Luther wanders into the living room, glances over the Jerrys on the floor, the Jerry on the left side of the couch, and marches up to the right. 

He bends down to peck _Jerry_ on the cheek, and he asks in that wondrously gentle way of his, “Shall we go?”

A smile soars onto Jerry’s face. Delighted, he asks, “How could you tell?”

Luther glances thoughtfully back at the puzzling Jerrys. Then he tells Jerry, “I don’t know. I just feel which one is _mine._ ”

Jerry’s definitely Luther’s. He’s totally smitten. When Luther offers his hand, Jerry takes it, and he’s lightly tugged off the couch. Wrapping his arm around Luther’s thick bicep, Jerry follows his boyfriend out, and has an absolutely perfect date.


End file.
